


Play the odds

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Mission Fic, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:03:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David fits Dick’s type to a T, but Dick has no idea where he stands on the other man’s radar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play the odds

**Author's Note:**

> For Leechbrain who wanted a slow-burn David/Dick story set after their team up in Batwing with a bit of a mission and referenced canon in the background. (This is an over-simplification of course because Leech was excellent and gave me a list to follow and I do love lists, but I did my best to fill the requirements of the prompt while writing an entertaining story.)

Dick has a type.

Dick has a thing for lovers that are bigger than he is, taking up space in ways that matter. He has a thing for lovers that can read him from a twitch in his eyebrows down to the shudder that takes hold of him when he is all but _dying_ from what they’re doing to him.

Dick’s lovers (potential and actual) are of a kind: powerful, generous, and determined to be the best at whatever they’re attempting to do. They're all rather different people, and Dick knows that the majority of them would never get along without a little nudging. He still sees a similar spark at their hearts that calls to him.

Dick knows what he likes in a lover, in a partner, and David Zavimbe fits the bill without even seeming to be aware of the effect he has on Dick.

It happens after a mission when blood and adrenaline alike are pumping.

Dick's chest heaves underneath the flexible armor of his suit and he looks down at the remains of the exploded fortress that he and David were fleeing with a brilliant smile.

He feels every inch a predator and he wonders briefly, as he wriggles to the edge of the ledge on his belly, if this is what Bruce feels on a nightly basis. Dick is so busy peering over the edge of a ledge, so captivated by the proof that they're doing _something_ right and that he can help outside of Gotham, that he doesn't notice David doubling back for him until the other man's gauntleted hands are on him.

Dick has an initial instinctive urge to flip over and kick out, but he recognizes the rough feel of familiar enough gauntlets through a tear in his suit and he makes himself melt into easy compliance and forces himself to keep from lashing out.

 David is a friend, his partner for the past few nights, and Dick can't let himself be carried away just because he's still running on the influence of a fight gone right.

"Are you injured?"

Over the comm unit, David's voice holds hardly a hint of his feelings, but there's care and worry in the way that he skates his fingers over Dick's arms and legs as though checking for injury.

"You fell behind," David offers in explanation for returning to Dick's side without giving him a warning. "If you’re hurt, I know a safe place where we can hide out for the night." They're in Cairo for the second time in as many days and while their previous safe house is compromised to the point of being smoldering ashes in the dirt, Dick had been hoping--

This had been the culmination of several nights of running around in search of smugglers. It had been their first mission working together --without Batman’s looming presence-- since the whole Talon invasion in Gotham several years before. He had been hoping that he wouldn’t have to hoof it out of Cairo and away from David this soon.

Dick rolls over onto his side and smiles up at his partner. He reaches up and flips the lenses of his mask up until he can see David without the faint film of the reinforced lenses. A moment later, David does the same.

The flames behind them give Dick a good look at David’s brown eyes and the worry within. There's something about that look in the aftermath of a successful mission that makes Dick careless with regard to his personal feelings about David.

Those feelings combine with the effects of the adrenaline rushing through Dick’s body. They leave him open to thoughts that he's been cursing himself for even entertaining when back on the road on his own --thoughts about David and about how the other man _has_ to be aware of the massive crush that Dick has been nursing since day one.

"I'm not injured," Dick admits after a few moments of silence, "But I would like to take a breather." Dick sits up and stretches because he _can_. He makes a low noise when his back pops and any lingering tension seems to flow out of his body. “The ringleader of the gang is still out there and I’d hate to run into him when I’m this tired.” Dick pauses to look up at David. “Unless you want to take him down on your own, I’d hate to get in your way.”

David smiles --just a little one, close to the ones that Bruce bestows upon him when he’s done something right-- and Dick’s heart just about stops in his chest from the sight  of it. 

“You’re not in the way,” David insists, reaching out as though he wants to grip Dick’s knee in a companionable touch, “Come with me. We’ll rest for the night and come up with a plan for the next few days.” David gestures in the opposite direction from where they had come and then waits for Dick to stand up and dust himself off. “Can you see the tall building in the shadow of the mosque?”

Dick blinks and nods.

“Yeah.”

When David smiles again, its sharper edge sends a thrill through Dick. “First one there gets the bed.”

\-------

Dick manages to spend the night without doing more than lazily flirting in David's general direction as he lounges on a sleeping bag spread out on the floor.

He even manages to tamp down the residual desire that surges up in his chest when David strips for bed and he sees scars streaking over the other man's dark skin and muscles flexing underneath. Dick manages to contain himself and sleep through the night with only a few instances of need making him recall the image of David's broad back as he dreams.

The next morning, Dick bounces up from his sleeping bag and almost brains himself on the side of the bed in the safe house. When he looks around, he spies David sitting on the far side of the room in front of a temporary computer set up with his headset on.

Dick scrambles to his feet and scratches at his bare stomach just above the sagging waistband of his borrowed pajama pants. “Did you even sleep?” Dick asks as he steps over the computer cords stretching from one end of the room to another. “What time is it?”

At first, David barely looks up from his computer as Dick moves to stand at an angle behind him, but then he closes out of the program on his screen and turns his head slightly to the right so that he can look at Dick without moving.

“Nine in the morning,” he says, “I wanted to confer with Matu before we started planning. He started looking for leads after I checked in with him last night.” David taps the side of the headset earpiece in his right ear and then turns in his chair so that he can look up at Dick. “There’s food on the table if you’re hungry.”

On cue, Dick’s stomach rumbles. It’s been several hours since Dick’s last meal and his stomach seems eager to remind him of that fact.

Dick fights the urge to blush and instead stays in David’s line of sight for a few moments longer.

“Thanks, man,” he says, “I’ll eat in a minute.” Dick reaches up and scratches at the nape of his neck. A second later, a wide yawn wrenches free of his throat and then Dick has the grace to make some kind of muttered apology. “Is there any coffee?”

David inclines his head in a nod and then stands up as though he hasn’t been sitting in the same position for several hours.

 “There are two cups over here,” David says, moving past Dick and briefly bringing their bodies into close contact. “I don’t know how you take yours, so I made sure to grab plenty of cream and sugar.”

“Sugar’s fine,” Dick says once his mouth catches up with his brain and his eyes can focus on something aside from the way that David’s back tapers to a narrow waist and a firm--

Dick is merciless about squashing that particular thought before it can come to completion.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” Dick blurts out in to the silence, reaching for something that he can say that can take his mind off ogling David as though he’s a hormonal teenager instead of a grown man. “I would have gone with you.”

David’s full lips quirk up with a small smile that sends embarrassingly light flutters through Dick’s chest.

“I tried to wake you,” David says, voice low and thrumming with an undercurrent of amusement, “But you called me Batman and then begged to be allowed to sleep in for a change.” David finishes fixing his own coffee and then steps aside so that Dick can reach for his own coffee cup and the sugar. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

Once again, Dick feels his cheeks heat up with a burning blush. He ducks his head and tries to hide his embarrassment.

“Man, I must have been more tired than I thought,” Dick mutters as he pours packs of sugar into his coffee. “I’m sorry. You probably wanted to be out of here ages ago.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” David says with his mouth poised above the edge of his coffee cup. “Don’t think for a second that you were holding me back on this.” David gives Dick a look that says volumes about how much the other man has noticed but has chosen to keep to himself. “I wanted to talk to you,” David says, “Off the comms that is. We didn’t have a chance to talk last night.”

Dick frowns into his own coffee cup. ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ isn’t on the same level as ‘We need to talk,’ but it’s close enough to make Dick start to worry. “Did I do something wrong on the mission?”

“What?” David blinks, nonplussed, and then sets his cup down on the table hard enough to send hot coffee sloshing out over his dark fingers. “Of course not,” he says without a hint of pain in his voice even though the drops of coffee must be _scalding_ , “This has nothing to do with the mission. I just have a question for you.”

Dick makes a face, but gives David the near-universal hand signal for ‘go ahead.” He settles against the wall in the safe house’s main room and raises his cup to his lips, using it to hide the bit of trembling tension at the corners of his mouth.

David closes his eyes, takes a sudden, shuddering breath of air, and then fixes Dick with the force of his dark gaze. “You were flirting with me,” David says and he doesn’t make it a question until _after_ Dick has already sucked hot coffee into his lungs. “You’ve been flirting with me for several days. Why?”

“Why not?” is Dick’s initial response before he sets his own coffee cup down and moves to mirror David’s position. He keeps a loose stance throughout, even while clearing his throat to make sure that he’s finally finished choking on coffee. “You’re attractive and single. _And_ you know about my night job.” Dick smiles. “Why _wouldn’t_ I flirt with you?”

They stand there in silence for a few moments until David speaks up.

“How do you know that I was single,” he asks as he eyes Dick as though he’s finally seeing him. “I didn’t think that sort of thing was in my file.”

Dick blushes and starts to play with the drawstring on his pants.

“It’s not.”

“So… how did--”

“Bruce.”

“Ah,” David says as though that explains everything --and on some level, maybe it does. He uncrosses his arms and then sighs. “But what-- What do you expect from me? Are you just flirting because you can?”

Dick bites at his bottom lip, trying to figure out what the right thing to say is.

“Sort of,” he admits, “I _like_ flirting. I think it’s fun, but I was also kind of hoping that you’d be interested--” Dick cuts himself off and shakes his head. “I can stop if it’s bothering you.”

“It’s not,” David says, “It’s not bothering me at all.” He reaches for his cup again and lifts it to his mouth, taking a deep swallow of his coffee. “What would you do if I said I was interested? I like--” David shakes his head and falls silent

To Dick, it feels like he’s in high school all over again. His face gets too hot and he can’t look at David without wanting to laugh nervously.

“So,” Dick says in a soft tone, “You… You really don’t mind the flirting?” He looks down at his hands and then makes himself look at David and hold the other man’s gaze. “Wait-- You’re interested? In _me_?”

David nods his head once. “I am,” he admits, as the sound of traffic outside their safe house threatens to swallow up the words. “It can’t interfere with the mission though. It can’t.”

Dick understands. “It won’t.”

\-------

Dick checks his suit for the second time in fifteen minutes, brushing invisible dust particles off the lapels as he checks his appearance in the mirror in the hotel room bathroom.

The sleek suit is a tailored black Armani number paid for from Bruce's expansive disguise fund. Paired with a pressed white shirt and subtle onyx cufflinks, it's a combination that makes Dick look as though he's going out for a night at the town rather than putting on a mask to aid with a bit of reconnaissance.

A knock at the door startles Dick and he almost hits his face on the mirror. When he manages to compose himself and fix the fall of his suit, Dick looks up and finds David standing in the doorway.

“You look--” The words “absolutely edible” come to mind, but Dick thinks better of it and simply ends his sentence with a reverently whispered, “really good, David.”

It’s not a lie.

David’s suit fits him perfectly. The cut of his black suit emphasizes exactly how broad David is and how the white of his own shirt draws attention to the deep brown of his skin.

“You’re staring,” David says with little censure in his voice.

“Don’t blame me,” Dick retorts as he starts to walk towards his partner. “You should see how good you look in your suit.” David stays standing in the doorway between the bathroom and the rest of the suite and he looks so smug, so pleased with himself, that Dick can’t resist--

Dick makes a point of pressing against David’s own in the doorway. He makes a point of getting as close to the other man as he can while their clothes are still on and wraps his arms around David’s neck. He kisses David square on the mouth because he _can_ and David lets him. Better than that, David moans into the kiss and then kisses Dick back.

David breaks the kiss so that he can pant for air against Dick’s ear. “We have to go find our target,” he says in a rough tone of voice. “This is going to have to wait until after we do some recon. We’ve been chasing after these smugglers for weeks.”

Dick makes a low sound of disappointment, but steps backward out of David’s space. He fixes his suit first and then David’s, fingers lingering on the slick silk of the other man’s tie. “Want to make a little wager?”

“Hm?”

Dick grins at David and starts backing up towards the main door in the suit. “First one to the target wins?”

“And what does the winner get?”

“It’s a surprise.”

 


End file.
